


Delectable Dreams

by Dreams of a Shore from A Distant World (SunSpice)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 11:26:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13189089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunSpice/pseuds/Dreams%20of%20a%20Shore%20from%20A%20Distant%20World
Summary: You were a Tyrell cousin at court, and he was the Lannister Hound. There was a world of differences between you- and yet...Porn with too much plot probably, for all the pervy Hound fanciers out there.





	Delectable Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first sort of smut posting ever so... Yeah have fun.

Edited: 2/10/2019 for content and grammar. 

Delectable Dreams

P with too much plot probably, an excerpt chapter from my Gardens Green fic. All you pervy Hound Fanciers will have fun here.

 

Maybe it was that one drink that gave you the courage you found tonight- the one cup of wine in a life of abstinence from such, or maybe it was the oppressive heat that made your body hum after the tournament. Gods knew you’ve seen the Hound fight in over a dozen in your lifetime, probably more- and it was impressive to watch him fight, as he was a man who rarely lost. But never had it had such an affect on you as this- or maybe it was the fact that you were mothering someone again, brooding over some other woman's offspring. You had a need to protect Sansa and Arya that went beyond duty, and as Ned had asked of you this one thing- small though it might seem to him, you would do it. And really they had so much of their aunt and father in them, how could you not? In your younger years you’d run wild in the halls of Winterfell, dearest friend of Lyanna. 

It drew into sharp relief the wistful wishes of a girl long past, watching a man fight and beat every opponent set before him as he did. Maybe it was the way you watched as he walked Sansa home, only a few steps behind- him being his own version of kind, and playing it off as being drunk. He might pretend well enough, to be the gruff uncaring sort- but he was not. Some of his callous ways were real- ingrained in him from a long life of fighting, and what cruelty that might bring. Too much bitter, and not enough sweet- but there was some kindness there still, buried deep. 

He was the Lannisters Hound, and he wasn’t- the dog was the surface, all teeth and gruff noises to keep people away. But he wasn’t a dog, he was a man- a man that you had come to feel a great deal for. Ah, there was nothing to do about it really, you would spend the rest of your life feeling this way for that man, and you would die of old age before taking another to bed. But you also could not marry him- not without incurring the wrath of your own family. Stupid- it was so stupid really, you could have found love with a Stark, or a Baratheon, but instead you found it here- in the hands of a man so gruff he frightened off even greater men.

You returned to your rooms that night giddy on the smell of summer air and good food, the salty smell of the sea drowning out the normal filth of the Keep, putting a kettle on over the fire as you moved to the work table set there- the brew in question was easy to put together, one you’ve done for others countless times before. But you had never partaken of it yourself- you never had reason to, and mayhap you would never use it again. But you didn’t bother to think of that, body humming as you to an experimental sip of the bitter stuff- what was it this day that made you want this so?

Was it simply that you were tired of waiting, or maybe it was simply that the time was right- you felt that in some part of you. But set that aside as you removed your long gown, dusty green fabric going into the pile meant for dirty things, your undergarments going to join them. Ignoring the wet stain in the center of your smalls, and feeling somewhat silly for having been so wanting- you weren’t a young woman anymore and yet still you were so willing for him.

No one talked about that in the romance novels- how many pairs of smalls they go through to keep clean because your imagination gets the better of you. Pulling a white sleeping gown from your wardrobe, slipping on the light fabric and doing all the preparations that you might for bed before blowing out the candles. To anyone who might be observing you, it would look as if you were simply doing that and nothing more. But as you listened for the servants settle in you waited, slipping out of your door into the now dark corridor once all were abed, and down the hallway, only a cloak to cover your sleeping gown.

After so many years you knew the Keep as you knew your own home, though many nobles knew scarcely how to get to the throne room- and you found it useful to be able to find anyone you should wish to on any given day. You knew the palace probably better than many of the former Kings, so great was your boredom over the years. But no one knew all of its secrets, though they might be privy to more than a few- and you used them at your discretion to go from the high ladies section in the castle to one where the bachelor Knights slept. Each had a suite of rooms only slightly smaller than those given to the bachelor nobles, and they were kept- for very good reason on the other side of the Keep. 

But someone somewhere thought to create a tunnel between the two, really a small passage between two walls that started behind a relief of a great stone eagle- opened only by a hidden lever that you had found on accident, it led through a winding maze of tunnels before ending in a similar eagle relief on the other side. As far as you knew, no one else was aware of its existence. One had to wonder who had been the origin of it, and how it ended for them- but you ignored that in favor of closing the passage quietly. Taking more caution here then you had in your own corridor- Knights kept far more outrageous hours then proper ladies did, if proper ladies were not out doing what they ought not be doing.

But thankfully no wayward Knights appeared, which was good, as they may have mistaken you for a lady of their own, and you found yourself in front of the Hound’s door- you were not alone it seemed as it were having thoughts of visiting the Knights who had been on the lists of the day. The sound of feminine voices could be heard on occasion coming from some doors, although women were not the only choice of companion for some- as noises suggested. 

But the door you’d come to- there stirred nothing within, and you for a moment hesitated. What if he truly were drunk? You could not be with him if this were the case, you would not do that to him- you would not do that to yourself. He may yet simply laugh in your face and send you away, he may be sleeping to deeply to wake. A thousand things might happen, and they were a thousand things that you ignored for just a moment bringing a hand up to knock- not softly, but just loud enough to be heard.

There was no noise beyond, no answer came for so long that you almost gave up- almost walked away, but finally the sound of footsteps came. You held your breath, and when the door opened you felt it leave as if it had never been. Sandor Clegane stood, barefoot and bare chested- only a pair of light sleeping pants on, and a scowl already in place.

“Sir Kellan is the next door down girl.” He all but barked at you, and you realized that he may not realize it was you, as your cloaks hood was still up over your face and hair- he moved to close the door, and you stopped it with a hand. Your other came up to pull the hood off revealing your face. This garnered another look- this one a unreadable, almost dare you say disbelieving, “If you need me to kill someone it can wait till morning, now-” whatever else he might have said was forgotten as you put my hand on his chest and pushed him back. 

He moved back as you moved forward, closing the door behind you, you stepped into his room, closing out the world for now. One hand was still on his chest, and his face in the darkness looked like he wasn’t sure this was really happening. Moving a hand up you caressed the scarred side of his face gently, only to stop as his own hand came pulling it away.

Before he could speak, you stood on the very tips of your toes to lay a soft sweet kiss on his lips, his breath was coming out now in harsh burst now, as if he was running a race and your hand trailed down his chest before you pulled it away. He had to take the next step, but the question was- But would he? You’d danced this step for so long, playing along with society's rules, even when exchanging quips and snarky remarks. But oh, you knew it did not have to be this way.

He longed for you, you could see that even in the light of day. But it was hidden always behind the thick layer of sarcasm, and bitter remarks. But would he turn you away? That you weren’t certain of, he was as ever himself, and his logic was his own. 

“This is a fucking dream isn't it?” He said softly, his hand still holding yours and you took that as a sign that maybe all wasn’t lost yet. But you didn’t know what to say to him, so you simply smiled a sweet smile and moved my other hand back onto his chest, waiting. You didn’t have to wait long as his own large hands came to touch your hips, and this contact seemed to almost burn- in a good way. You’ve never had a man touched you like this before, even as innocent in comparison as it was, and it seemed to consume you until he pulled you forward, and lips crashed onto your own, as you were pulled forward hips flush against his.

You were a woman and by that virtue smaller than many men, and he was a large man so perhaps your hips didn’t quite meet as they were meant to- but the contact was enough, and you gasped as a hand slid between your legs, moving it up so that your hips could meet just so. Your hands found place in his hair, as his lips left yours only to nip and lick down the length of your neck. The hand on your thigh slid up underneath the cloak you were wear, and when he realized how little you was wearing he cursed, and you took the opportunity to push him back- back towards his bed as his hands pulled the clasp on your cloak away, ripping the fabric.

It dropped from your shoulders, revealing the night dress beneath- meant for summer nights it was barely enough to be considered proper for sleeping, and the noise that came from his mouth at this could not be described. His legs hit the edge of his bed, and you pressed him to sit down, not allowing for much room between you as you followed. Straddling him as he became distracted with the neckline of your gown, pulling it down to reveal your breast. 

“Fuck me,” was all he said, and you had to smirk and reply.

“That’s the idea.” The feeling of his calloused fingers on your breast was new to you, and a gasp left your mouth as he kneaded one gently, thumb circling a hardened nipple before his mouth descended on it sucking and nipping at it gently. One of your hands went to his face as the other trailed down his stomach, skimming over the hair on his chest down the skin covering his ribs, and over the odd scars there. Dipping down beneath the waistband of his pants to touch the sensitive skin and slipping through the thick curls you found there, you slid fingers along the almost hardened length found there. Sador hissed, pulling away from your breasts as his hips jerked, thrusting as your hand gripped him lightly.

“This is going to be over before it begins if you keep doing that!” He said, pulling the hand away and pressing a fierce kiss to your lips, holding you in place as his other hand slid up your thigh, up under your nightdress. The feeling of his thick fingers tracing along sensitive skin before it found your wanting slickness, and he let out a raspy chuckle. A finger slid along your slick entrance, circling your clit with a rough precision that made you gasp. His thumb took its place as he pushed one finger into your warm entrance, teasing in and out, and back in again. 

Your hips moved as if on their own, grinding against his hand harder as you gasped wanting more, his rough fingers were good- so very good, but not enough. You pushed him back onto the bed, and he good naturedly followed- as if he was not entirely certain where this might be going but he was determined to follow along. Hooking fingers under the waistband of his pants again, pulling them down freeing his hard dick. It was proportionate- enough so that it might make some blush, but you simply moved to straddle him a hand moving to position him just so.

The contact made him grunt, and you pulled up your gown just enough so that he could see what you were doing, before moving his tip along the slick wetness at your entrance, teasing you both. You only had it in you to do this twice more before you had to feel him, you wanted him inside of you- and you moved to slowly ease yourself down on him. You’d never been with a man before this, and you could feel him stretching you- but it was not painful, likely because you wanted him so. 

His own hands came to grip your hips, helping you as a you rolled your hips taking more of him in. You rode him slowly at first, even as his hands urged you to move faster, gasping breath the only noise in the night. And in your efforts moved once slightly differently than before, hitting a spot that made you grip tighter and want more. This seemed to catch his interest, and soon his hands were guiding you so that he could hit that spot every time thrusting faster. You felt your nails bite into his skin as you clutched at him, eyes closing as something felt close- so very close. 

You felt another movement and his lips brush against yours before deepening the kiss, rough and wet as you wrapped your arms up around him. His thrust became rough, fast, and you lost myself for a moment, or maybe forever as muscles tightened and a blinding feeling made you gasp, you felt yourself come- milking his cock for what it was worth. He swore, teeth nipping along your soft skin, as his thrusts became uneven the sound of skin against skin echoed in the room and then- a sharp breath, a thrust, harder than before, shuddering and cursing. For a moment that seemed like forever you sat entwined, unmoving save for your breath. He eased back onto the bed slowly, taking you with him still entwined- there was something about it that you couldn’t think or comment on. 

You rested on top of him eyes fluttering as his breath evened out, the night air seeming suddenly cooler then when you first entered his room, you shuddered as to pull up a blanket from the edge of the bed covering you both. His eyes followed you, dark and unreadable as they always were, and you put a hand up wishing to stroke his hair. But the look in his eye changed, so your movement was delayed- and you found yourself placing it on his cheek instead.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly and you watched his eyes seem to turn darker, shame if only slightly “Shoulda pulled out- Your a bloody Tyrell, if I put a babe in yah I’m a dead man.”

“I drank the tea,” You said with a soft smile, “Even if you had it wouldn’t have worked, it’s a silly myth.”

“Good.” Was all he said this time looking away from you, pulling you to him before pulling up the blanket a bit more. Sandor Clegane was a man of few words, and you didn’t really expect him to be much for pillow talk anyways. You let yourself doze with him for a time, waiting until he was deep asleep before you moved again- not wanting to leave, but knowing what would happen in anyone found you in his room. You moved first to place a kiss on his forehead however, tugging a blanket up around his shoulders before sliding off the bed quietly and moving to find your cloak, stealing away in the night.


End file.
